om Clayton down to Black Diamond is called Kirker's Pass.
These citadels and avenues of nature are in Anglo-Saxon hands.
At Belmont we are lodged with William C. Ralston, one of the magnates of this bay; once a carpenter planing deals, then a cook on board a steamer, afterwards a digger at the mines, now the president of a bsk.
I like the man and hope the best for him ; yet noticing his restless eye and paling brow, I cannot help feeling that with all his jollity and briskness William C. Ralston is the victim of his enterprise, the slave of his success.
All round this inland sea, the life is rich and strong: rich as the native fruit, strong as thearts on a trotting match between two famous colts; anon they give up their emotion to a murder in the street.
Excitement they must have.
A special man, like Ralston, our host at Belmont, tries to guard himself by a denial of such pleasures as his fortune brings within his reach.
He dares not drink a glass of wine.
Like brandy in his veins, he feels the devilry that comes with sudden gain and loss.
Here is no old and steady middle class, with decent habits, born in the bone and nurtured on the hearth; people who pay their debts, walk soberly to church, and keep the ten commandments, for the sake of order, if no higher rule prevails.
In San Francisco, a few rich men, consisting of the various rings, are very rich.
Lick, Latham, Hayward, Sharon, are marked five million dollars each.
Reese, Ralston, Baldwin, Jones, and Lux are marked still moreseven millions, ten millions, twelve millions each.
Flood and Fair, Mackey and O'Brien are said to be richer still.
The poor are very poor; not in the sense of Seven Dials and Five Points; yet poor in having little and craving much.
A pauper wants to get money, and to get this money in the quickest time.
Cards, dice, and share-lists serve him, each in turn.
He yearns to be Lick or Ralston-owner of a big hotel, conductor of a prosperous bank